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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25096561">Lessons</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fericita/pseuds/Fericita'>Fericita</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>All Is Found [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Frozen (Disney Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Learning to Fight, happy married sexy times</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 05:53:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,041</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25096561</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fericita/pseuds/Fericita</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>This takes place between Exodus and New Birth when Iduna and Agnarr are enjoying being married and alone in the forest.  She tries to teach him how to fight with a wooden staff, and they both win.  You can thank@The-Spaztic-Fantastic for this one; it is purely through her encouragement and beta-ing and influence this became a finished product instead of something we just messaged about forever.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Agnarr &amp; Iduna (Disney), Agnarr/Iduna (Disney)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>All Is Found [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1624150</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Lessons</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Are those apples? I didn’t know there were apple trees in this forest!” Agnarr reached to pick one but drew back, looking to Iduna to be certain it was actually an apple and edible, and not one of the many plants that she assured him could kill on contact. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shortly after their boska harvesting, he had picked some wolfsbane for its bright purple flowers, thinking to decorate their bleak cave with something beautiful.  But she had kicked it from his hands and then made him wash in the river even though it was already frigidly cold, all the while explaining with increasingly frantic speech that it was only to be touched while wearing gloves. Its only purpose was for a coating on arrow tips meant for wolves.  Not animals they could hunt and eat.  The poison would kill anyone who tried to eat game felled by a wolfsbane arrow.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He then spent the rest of the evening feeling his face for drool and his hands for numbness, imagining it there, and feeling the need to vomit even though it was surely from nerves and not his brief contact with the plant.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was not a fond memory.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Iduna nodded to him and he pulled two off of a low-hanging branch.  “Yes, some English monks planted them generations ago.  They told some confusing stories about bearing fruit for a god that no one could make sense of, but we appreciate the fruit all the same.  There are sweet pears somewhere too.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He tossed an apple to her and they bit into them, Agnarr watching as some of the juice dribbled down her chin and she swiped at it with a finger and brought it to her lips to taste the sweetness.  He loved being able to look at her this way, admiring her openly without worrying she would catch him at it. Since the winter, their closeness was intimate in a way that brought him much satisfaction. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And just like he had made a study of the forest and the ways to survive in it, he had made a study of his wife and what gave her satisfaction.  The sigh she made when he ran his hands from her ankles to her hips, the way she pushed at her leggings, annoyed, when fabric separated her from him as they pressed against each other at night.  And best of all, how she would move against him and then stop for a moment, her eyes fixed on his and her mouth open with a silent plea that he answered with a caress and a movement of his own that led to his favorite sound yet.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He took another bite of the apple and watched as she continued to eat hers in a perfect line around the middle of the fruit, her even bites marking a white trail. “I’ll make a ladder so we can get the ones high up.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No need, I can climb and get those.”  She tilted her head looking up. “Though, I haven’t climbed much without the wind to help.  A ladder might be wise.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Agnarr smiled, pleased to have a useful idea, pleased that the forest which had been so starkly bare during the winter was now blooming again.  Sometime over the course of the winter, loving his wife had begun to feel like an act of hope instead of an act of desperation.  And now the blooms of spring were proof that hope was justified. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He took another bite.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iduna watched as Agnarr used the knife to peel a layer of bark off of a tree branch. He had a pile of evenly cut pieces of wood that he promised would soon be a ladder, but this branch was thicker than the others.  He frowned, turning the branch over in his hands.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She enjoyed watching him work.  He was so serious about it, yet somehow still playful.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Even in their first few weeks, he had worked hard to learn how to hunt and trap and build, yielding to her expertise and offering up silly stories of cotillions and tea parties and festivals that made them both laugh.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She smiled, remembering how awkward he was the first time she showed him how to fly on the wind. Nervous, but willing to follow her lead, trusting her to teach him and keep him from plummeting to the ground.  He’d been scraped and bruised a bit, but exhilarated.  The joy in his face when he first flew above the canopy, the way he reached out his hand to hold hers, it had given her heart a lightness that she carried even now. If he had started like a drunken duck, he had finished their lesson like a reindeer calf.  Perhaps unsteady on his legs but carrying the promise of future usefulness.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a litheness to his body and an eagerness to learn that had made their nights a delightful exploration.  And mornings.  And afternoons.  What had begun with awkward and eager fumblings, with whispered questions and breathless assurances, had become practiced and adept. Now when his hands moved to her hips and he pressed against her, it was heat and desire, their laughter for the joy of the act and not to cover embarrassment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yes, she was glad to have a husband who learned so well. And though he was more skilled in the pursuit of their shared pleasures than he had become at spear fishing or assembling the wooden slats into their kota, she supposed some endeavours were more rewarding in their accomplishment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She might have blushed at the thought if anyone had been around to see, but it was just the two of them in this part of the woods. So instead, she walked over to him and took the branch out of his hand and ran her hand up the length of it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He motioned to it. “This one’s thicker to start with.  Should I peel more layers away or look for a different branch?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She shook her head. “It’s too thick for your ladder.  But perfect for a staff. For fighting.”  She handed it back and sat next to him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’ll have to show me how.  I only know how to fence and wrestle.  Some of that might be helpful, but what I saw the day of the battle…” He shook his head and covered his hand with hers.  “I don’t know how to do that.  But perhaps I should learn to help keep us safe.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She leaned her head on his shoulder and he stuck the knife he had been using in the ground. Then he brought that hand up to cradle her cheek, running his thumb up and down her cheekbone as they breathed in and out. “I promise I’ll keep you safe.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know.  We have nothing to fear from my people now, as long as we stay away. But I think it’d be good for you to learn.” She sat up smiling, pushing away the darker thoughts that would take hold if she let herself think for too long about what their banishment was intended to do to them. “It will be fun.  I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before. You’ve told me all about fencing.  This isn’t so different.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is very different,” Agnarr groaned as Iduna pointed the pointy end of the fishing spear toward his neck, her foot on his bare stomach and his body splayed in the dirt.  “And why do you get the pointy one?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Because you didn’t want to make two staffs and I’m improvising.  Which you should do more of, stop thinking about the foot patterns from fencing.  Look at your terrain and your environment.  Use it.”  Iduna removed her foot and offered a hand to Agnarr, who instead of using it to pull himself up, pulled her down so she was lying on top of him, the bare skin of his chest warm and wet with sweat through the borrowed shirt of his she was wearing. She lost her grip on her spear in the sudden movement and sensation and shrieked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s not fair! I was offering mercy!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I am a Southern bastard.”  He laughed as he held her tight against him and winked.  “You should have listened to your brother’s warnings.” His old shirt billowed away from her leggings in the breeze and his hand moved from her hip to her exposed back.  He ran his hand up and down her spine and felt her shiver under his touch before gripping his arm around her waist and flipping them so that she was the one with her back against the earth. He raised himself to his knees and smiled at her triumphantly. “Improvising.  I rather like it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Iduna slid her hands from where they were pinned under his legs and moved them slowly up his thighs, smiling at him. “Very good. And what else do you like?” One hand continued its climb towards his hip while she used the other to lightly scrape her fingernails on the underside of his arm.  Her smile grew wider as her hand reached the wooden staff now loosely held in his hand and she pulled it from his grasp, knocking him on the side of the head and scrambling out from under him as he brought both hands to cradle his temple and groaned. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Now who’s not playing fair?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She stood, bending her knees a bit to brace for a new attack as he reached for the fishing spear and twirled it about his head in the way she had demonstrated at the start of their lesson. “I think I like the pointy one better.  It’s quicker.  Deadlier.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Iduna lifted her staff in swift motion, knocking at the spear and succeeding in making Agnarr fumble it so it landed in the dirt.  She stood her staff in the ground and leaned against it. “I think we’ve learned that I’m the quick and deadly one.  Not the weapon.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Instead of leaning down for the spear, Agnarr lunged toward her and kicked at the staff. Iduna dodged his foot by rolling into a patch of grass. She tucked herself so her arm didn’t take weight in the fall and jumped back up. As she rose, she saw that Agnarr had the spear in hand again and was holding it in front of himself like a shield.  She advanced on him, knocking at his slender piece of wood with her heavier staff, and they traded blows only twice before his spear snapped in half and he looked at the two pieces splintered in his hands, laughing. He threw them at her one at a time and she knocked them away with the staff. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What now?”  She grinned.  “Are you ready to call mercy?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Agnarr dropped to his knees in front of her. “I’m always at your mercy.  And do not regret it at all.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Iduna raised the staff above her head. “Victory! Let the spirits witness it!” She lowered it again and then let it fall in the dirt, as Agnarr’s mouth found the skin on her stomach, his bearded face tickling her as he burrowed under the voluminous shirt.  His hands moved to clasp her backside and she lifted the sweaty shirt off of her head, the warm spring sun welcome against her exposed skin. He took the shirt from her and placed it like a pillow on the grass and as Iduna laid against the soft earth, she asked “Best of three?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He pressed against her and laughed. “Let’s do what we do best instead.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Iduna pulled him down so he lay on top of her, the heat of their skin so alive against each other she thought it might be their bodies that were calling Spring into life. His face was an inch from hers, his breath was the same as hers, and before he covered her with his lips and tongue and feverish fingers, she nodded.  “Yes, let’s.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He kissed her neck and traced a line from her collarbone to her neck before his final words for a while. “It’s my turn to make you demand mercy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She laughed and then gasped, grateful again that he was so determined to get this right.</span>
</p>
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